


The Path Home

by Evil_Sapphyre



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:11:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Sapphyre/pseuds/Evil_Sapphyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eithne Theirin, formerly Eithne Cousland, has left her home in Ferelden in search of a cure to the Darkspawn taint in her veins. Her travels have taken her across Thedas in search of any clue, and finally, the path leads her towards home - if but for one final stop along the way. What will happen when she is reunited with an old friend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Path Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [machiavelie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/machiavelie/gifts).



> There are some very blatant spoilers to the Dragon Age comics and novels within, as I felt that they added appropriate context to the situation. Consider yourself warned.

Eithne Cousland-Theirin swore that she was never going to let the rumors bother her, not when she and Alistair forged their marriage in the eyes of the Landsmeet. After saving Ferelden from the Blight, and stealing back a few precious decades to spend with him, she assured herself that it would be enough for her. The life that she and Alistair made together would be enough, even without children. That was, until the day that she woke, and it all had changed.

The harsh whispers of the court, besmirching her marriage behind her back, wormed their way into her mind. They spoke of how the King and Queen must not consort at all, or that perhaps the Theirin line’s fertility ended with the death of King Marric. After all, Cailan too had been unable to father an heir. Then there were the ladies hoping to catch Alistair’s eye, believing that they could turn him from Eithne. That was never a fear for her; Alistair was steadfast in his feelings for her, as she was for him. The underlying issue was rather simple.

Eithne wanted a child with the man she loved, and that fate had been robbed from them the minute that they joined the Wardens.

That was why she had left Denerim, all those months ago, in search of a cure. She would never have traded her time as the Wardens, as the Blight would have destroyed all of her beloved homeland if she hadn’t taken the oath, but now, all these years later, it did not have to be her destiny - their destiny.

It was that very fact that brought her back to Ferelden now. She had traveled through the better part of Thedas searching for anything, or anyone, that would be able to make sense of the taint running through her veins. She even dared to enter Minrathous, enlisting the aid of Maevaris Tilani, whom was more than helpful to aid the foreign queen and keep Eithne’s presence in Tevinter secret. Yet, after scouring the ends of Thedas, Eithne’s search brought her back to her home country, collecting notes from Avernus from Soldier’s Peak, and some obscure notes from First Enchanter Remille, formerly of Kinloch Hold. Truthfully, Eithne wasn’t sure how much sense any of the notes made, but they were the first she had seen that talked about attempting to handle the curse she bore - how to combat the Blight in her veins.

Now, she finally tracked down the last piece to her puzzle, or at least the person she could trust to put these pieces together, all the way back in Redcliffe. It was odd for Eithne to be back here, alone; at times, it seemed like just yesterday when Alistair and their merry little band had stumbled into town, and Alistair admitted his true parentage. Her heart ached at the thought of her husband, the wry grin crossing his face as he spoke of being the bastard prince.

Steeling herself with the knowledge that this was the only way for them to truly be together, she made her way to the Gull and Lantern, her dark cloak pulled tight around her body, and the hood drawn low. She didn’t need people making a fuss about the Queen being in town.

Coin changed hands with no words being uttered before Eithne headed up the stairs. She never went to her room, instead going to the last room on the left. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she forced herself to take a deep breath before rapping on the wooden door.

A hushed voice said something that she couldn’t quite catch on the other side before approaching. The door remained shut, as the mocking feminine voice called out. “I said we were not to be disturbed.”

“Morrigan, please…” The words died on Eithne’s lips, her voice catching in her throat. What if Morrigan refused to help her? This was her only shot; there was no one else she could trust with something of this magnitude now.

A soft click of the door unlocking filled her ears, and a small blossom of relief flooded Eithne’s body. The door opened, just enough, for Eithne to see the cautious glare of Morrigan’s yellow eyes. Eithne pulled the hood back enough for Morrigan to get a real look at her. With a shake of her head, Morrigan relented and opened the door far enough for Eithne to enter. “I take it Leliana informed you as to my whereabouts?”

Eithne nodded, taking in the small inn room that Morrigan had rented. A tight bundle of packs were piled into one corner, and the bed was in disarray, but no sign of whomever she had spoken with. Morrigan, herself, seemed much the same as she recalled, wearing similar robes to the day they first met, her raven hair pinned up and out of her face. “Her scouts followed your departure from Skyhold. She assured me that she would not share the information with anyone other than me.”

Morrigan’s pursed her lips, her eyes flashing. “Splendid. Now, tell me, why are you here?”

The sharp tone of her voice brought an odd smile to Eithne’s face. Some things never changed, no matter how much time passed. Eithne lowered the hood of her cloak the rest of the way, letting her own dark hair fall free across her shoulders. “I’m hoping you could help me with a problem.”

“I’m afraid that I’ve done all I could to save the fate of the world for two lifetimes.” Morrigan crossed her arms under her breasts, lifting her chin. “Perhaps you should seek the council of the Inquisition. They seem to be in the business of helping strangers.”

“We’re hardly strangers, Morrigan. And what I need assistance with…” Eithne shook her head. “I can’t trust just anyone with this information.”

“Eithne…”

“Mother, can I come out now?”

The quiet voice came from the area of the packs in the corner, and both women caught their breath. Of course, it made perfect sense now to Eithne. Morrigan would not venture far from her child, and she was not surprised to know that she hid the boy (if Leliana’s words were true) from any possible visitor. Everything about Morrigan softened, melting as she approached the packs and waving a hand. The packs moved in slow motion to the floor, revealing the dark-haired child hidden within. “Kieran, yes, my sweet, you are safe.”

A smile crossed the boy’s face as he stepped out from the corner towards Morrigan. She placed a hand on his cheek, with a gentleness that Eithne wasn’t sure she knew Morrigan had. Eithne’s throat tightened again as she watched the display between mother and son. This wasn’t just anyone’s child though. This was Alistair’s and Morrigan’s son, begotten from the very act Eithne begged Alistair to undertake - and the boy was a physical and painful reminder of everything she couldn’t have. Tears stung at her eyes, and she looked away, trying to keep her breath even.

“Mother, who is she?”

“This, my sweet, is a rather old friend.”

Eithne forced herself to look back to the pair. Kieran was staring up at her, youthful innocence and curiosity lighting his eyes. She couldn’t help but smile at him, even as her heart swelled with sadness. “My name is Eithne. It is a pleasure to meet you, Kieran.”

His eyes grew wide. “Aren’t you….”

“Shh, yes, my sweet.” Morrigan interrupted him with that same gentleness. It was obvious that motherhood suited her. Eithne bit back the jealousy that threatened to rear its ugly head. “She is, but we mustn’t speak of that here. Excuse mother a moment as she and her friend speak in private.”

“Yes, Mother.” He smiled to Eithne as Morrigan escorted her out of the room.

The door shut behind them, Morrigan standing guard in front it. Eithne offered her a soft smile, in hopes of putting her back at ease. “He’s lovely, Morrigan.”

“Thank you.” A glint of mistrust shone in Morrigan’s eyes, her posture still as rigid as she stood opposite Eithne.

“Morrigan…” Eithne managed to barely say the words before Morrigan cut her off.

“You cannot have him.”Desperation colored Morrigan’s face, fear tinting her eyes, as she clutched her fists by her side.

“Have him?” Eithne blinked, knowing surprise was written across her face. “Morrigan, I would never dream of taking Kieran from you.”

The air crackled around them, alive with energy. Morrigan kept her voice low, but the accusation never left it. “Then why? Why are you here? Why now? I saw the way you looked at him.”

Eithne stepped closer to her old friend, reaching out a hand to grasp hers. Even if time had made them grow distant now; they used to be close. Morrigan would understand if only Eithne could get through to her. “Because he’s everything that I’ve not been able to have.” She placed a hand on Morrigan’s arm. “I want your help to fix that.”

“The Blight corrupts all that it touches, Eithne.” She shook her head, placing her own hand over Eithne’s. “If you and Alistair have yet to conceive, I’m afraid that the taint will be far too ingrained to correct that now.”

“Morrigan, I have travelled the lengths of Thedas to find the smallest, most remote chance to fix this curse. I believe I have found promising leads. Just…” Eithne paused, pleading with her eyes, as she tried to remain positive. “Look at the notes. That’s all I ask.”

* * *

The evening turned into early morning, as Morrigan studied the notes by way of candlelight, her son tucked in the soft folds of the bed. Eithne waited in silence as Morrigan studied the various resources she brought to her, knowing that the discerning eye of the witch would be able to ascertain if any of what she hoped was possible. Morrigan had always been wiser beyond her years, and Eithne knew this was her only chance. It was that thought that made the stretch of silence tolerable.

“Well, I can say the idea certainly has merit.” Morrigan sat the notes on a table, and Eithne did everything she could to contain the nervous flip of her stomach. Morrigan did not confirm it was possible. Just that it had merit.

“So you can do it?” Eithne hated the hopeful note that slipped into her voice.

Morrigan shook her head. “Regrettably, there is an ingredient that I fear is far beyond our reach. There is a mention of an old bloodline, still singing from the time of dragons. I daresay that it would be nigh impossible to find someone descended of such things.”

Eithne raised an eyebrow, as the eerily familiar words of what her own husband once told her replayed in her mind.  “Surely, you jest, Morrigan.”

Morrigan rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Since when have you ever known me to joke about such matters.”

“Then you certainly are more than aware that your mother tasked your sister Yavana with using such a bloodline in her tasks.” Anger threatened to bubble over, as Eithne tried to keep her emotions in check. Surely, this was not a game to Morrigan - not with what was at stake.

“My mother, as you may recall, did not deign to share many of her secrets. Where I am not surprised she had other daughters, she never spoke of this Yavana to me, nor what she entrusted her with.” She picked up the notes once more before stalking over to Eithne. “Perhaps you should speak to this Yavana if she knows of such cryptic meanings.”

The book stuffed full of loose papers felt awkward in her hands as Morrigan forced it on her. Eithne furrowed her brow, confused that Flemeth kept all of this a secret from Morrigan, for what had to be a lifetime. “Even if that were an option, I wouldn’t trust her. Maker, she tried to kidnap Alistair to accomplish her goals. Do you think I would trust her with something of this magnitude?”

“Oh, whatever could she have wanted that fool for…” The words died on her lips as her eyes widened with surprise, and perhaps a touch of terror. “You cannot mean to say that it is the Theirin bloodline she needed?”

“Yes, but…”

Morrigan did not wait to hear any other words, hurrying to the packs still littering the corner of the room. “Then I am afraid that there is naught that I can do.”

Eithne watched for a moment, the chill of fear running down her spine, as the witch began to frantically pack her belongings. Getting to her feet, she dropped the book and crossed the room to the other woman. “Morrigan?”

“Eithne, even though I wish to help you, Alistair’s blood has held the taint for too long.” She stopped her packing long enough to clasp Eithne’s hands. “There is little chance that it could be used to purify the taint in either of your veins.”

“Then why are you running scared now, Morrigan?”

“Because, if what you speak is true, and I have a sister in search of the Theirin bloodline, what is to stop her from seeking my son?” Just like that night, over a decade ago, when Morrigan beseeched Eithne to trust her, the same earnestness seeped into her voice. The fear that her sister Yavana would swoop down from the shadows to snatch her son seemed to fill Morrigan, her eyes swimming with emotion.

Eithne pulled her hands free from her friend’s, resting them on her shoulders. “Morrigan, she’s dead. Alistair killed her in his escape. She can do no harm to Kieran, I swear it.”

As quickly as the hurricane of emotions overcame Morrigan, they fled like the tide back into the ocean. The only real acknowledgement of relief was the sag of her shoulders under Eithne’s hands. “I… Thank you, my friend.”

“No thanks are needed, Morrigan. Your son is precious to you, and I would not allow harm to befall him if I can help it.” Eithne offered her a warm smile. Perhaps with her fears assuaged, all would not be lost now.

“And still, I cannot aid you in your quest.”

“Morrigan, you said yourself, Alistair is not the last of the bloodline.”

“He is but a boy, Eithne. I cannot…”

“So he would be harmed to process the ritual?” Eithne was desperate to solve this problem, but she felt herself waver. Was she so desperate as to ask Morrigan to put her own son at risk - just after Eithne swore to help keep him safe? Was she so callous and selfish to do such a thing?

“Some, yes. But he could recover - in time.”

Eithne nodded, gathering her cloak around her. She did not bother to try and hide her disappointment. If what Morrigan said was true, this had been a fool’s errand indeed. She spent months upon months away from her husband - precious time that they would never get back with their shortened lifespans. “I feel perhaps it would be best if I go now.”

Eithne turned from Morrigan, pulling her hood low, as she made her way to the door. Her hand rested on the knob, tears stinging at her eyes. This was her last hope, her last chance. Maker, why did it have to end this way? Her hand tightened on the knob, as a sob threatened to escape her throat.

“Mother?” Kieran’s voice, sleepy as it might have been, froze Eithne in her place. She’d never know that title, not now.

“My sweet, go back to sleep.”

Eithne wrenched open the door, anger fueling her as much as the grief. She could not stand here and listen to the honey-toned of a mother to her child. Not when the child was Alistair’s, and it would always be the one thing Morrigan gave him that she could not.

Eithne rushed out the door, determined to flee down the steps and begin her trek back to Denerim, when she stopped once more at Kieran’s voice. “But I want to help.”

“You know not of what you ask.”

“I want to be a hero. Like Eithne. Please Mother.”

Morrigan spoke, her voice too low for Eithne to hear, but eventually, her sigh filled the air, followed by footsteps. Eithne turned to the sound, finding Morrigan at the door now. “Come. We will handle this folly tonight. I will try to create this cure, but if it becomes too great on my son, I will not complete it.”

Eithne wanted to rush to the woman, to embrace her and thank her for what she was willing to do - to try. Instead, she nodded, knowing that Morrigan would likely not appreciate such gestures. “Of course. I will follow your lead in this matter.”

* * *

Early the next evening, Eithne woke in her own room at the Gull and Lantern. She pushed her dark hair from her face as she tried to process the events prior to her sleep. Everything was a blur, but she recalled one bit - Morrigan was successful in creating what they hoped to be a cure. Rushing to her pack, Eithne found a crystal vial tucked safely in the pack, a talisman wrapped in cloth alongside it.

There had been a catch, as there always was.

Procuring enough to create two viable cures was too much for Kieran, but it was a start. Perhaps in time, with the notes that Morrigan gave her to add to her own notes, another mage could replicate what she created. But for now, Eithne needed only to return home - to her King and to her husband. There were more challenges ahead of them, with only one vial for the both of them, but there was hope too. Perhaps that was all that they would need.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Machiavelie for the DA FicSwap. Eithne Cousland is her Warden, and I thank her for letting me play with her toys for this short period of time. Perhaps, if she would like, there may be a follow-up story in the future. :)


End file.
